Death does not comes easy-2

"Do you want to save one person or many?"

Ariella suddenly posed a question that was both strange and unsettlingly in line with her personality.

"I can see a man fighting alone—the one we saw a few hours ago on the feed. The one wearing that bizarre fusion of medieval and modern armor. I don't see the rest of his crew. They must have abandoned him; he's probably too slow to keep up. On the other hand, there's a team of two dozen people barricading themselves inside a run-down building. But with how viciously the zombies are attacking, I don't think they'll last much longer."

"You want me to choose?"

"You're the one playing superhero," she said matter-of-factly. "According to my calculations, one of them won't survive. And the worst part? They're in opposite directions. You don't have time to save them both. I'm seventy-nine percent certain of this." There was a slight crack in her voice, a rare moment of hesitation.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you? How sick do you have to be to get a thrill out of playing with people's lives?"

"Do you think I enjoy this?" she retorted. "It's a lesson for you. And I'm very curious to see what you'll choose."

I didn't have time to argue. I knew she was just trying to get under my skin. Being an artificial intelligence, she always assumed she was the smartest in the room. But I believed that human emotions—our ability to feel—were what made us capable of the best decisions in moments of crisis.

Without another word, I made my decision. I turned toward the location with more people and flew at top speed. Ariella didn't make any snide comments, which was a relief. Instead, she focused on providing me with mission intel, relaying an overall view of the situation.

The building was small, with four entrances. From its layout, it had clearly been a gas station at some point. It was a terrible place to make a stand—far too exposed. And worse, the situation was dire. Nearly a thousand zombies had gathered, with more closing in every second. The whole scene was a chaotic nightmare.

Through my thermal scanner, I could see the survivors desperately trying to hold the barricades as the undead pounded against them. The largest entrance was blocked by a rusted-out car, and someone had set up a machine gun inside of it. But the weapon was buried under a growing pile of corpses, making it unusable. Some of the smarter zombies were using their long, spindly limbs to slash away at the bodies, carving a path inside.

The way they moved made it clear—they weren't just mindless creatures. Their physical attacks were weak, but their speed was their greatest strength. Whenever one poked its head through the barricade, it was met with either a machete or a bullet. But it must have been demoralizing for the survivors, knowing that for every one they took down, another took its place almost instantly.

I was about to pull out a grenade when Ariella stopped me.

"The structure is too unstable," she warned. "The area is directly above the metro tunnels, and with so many holes in the road, a large explosion might cause a collapse. It could take everyone down with it."

"Alright," I muttered, adjusting my approach. "I guess it's time to test out the laser rifle. Let's hope this thing works."

"That weapon can cut through diamonds. There's no doubt it'll slice through their bodies with ease. But remember—aim carefully. Their heads need to be destroyed completely, or they'll still be able to bite."

"I know. Just help me control the radius. I don't want to bring the whole building down."

"You don't have to ask me for such obvious things."

No one had noticed me hovering in the air yet. I pulled out two small devices and attached them to my arms, linking them to my glider suit's power source. This rifle was going to drain a lot of energy, so I had to make each shot count.

I spread my arms wide, striking an almost absurd T-pose, and then dropped straight into the most congested part of the horde. As I spun, the laser rifle hummed to life, slicing through flesh like butter.

The zombie I landed on snapped its teeth at me, but my armor was too thick for it to do any real damage. Its dead eyes watched in horror as its brethren were reduced to lifeless chunks in mere seconds. A moment later, I crushed its skull with my boot, silencing it for good.

I repeated the maneuver in three more locations, thinning the horde rapidly before switching to my plasma rifle. The zombies that weren't dead yet were now missing their legs, rendering them harmless compared to their former selves.

As I took a moment to assess the scene, the gas station's door burst open with a loud crash. A towering, ox-like old man stormed out, his rifle aimed directly at my head.

"I'm not here—"

Before I could finish my sentence, he fired. The bullet ricocheted off my helmet, sending a sharp vibration through my skull. I instinctively raised my own weapon, suddenly caught in a tense standoff with the madman.

"Why the hell did you shoot me?! I could have died!"

"Why?" the old man snorted. "I wanted to see if you were real. Looks like you are." He studied me with narrowed eyes. "Who the hell are you? And how did you take them down so quickly? Your accent's strange, your clothes are even stranger, and those weapons? Never seen anything like them."

By now, more survivors had stepped out of the building, weapons in hand. They eyed me warily. One of them, a younger man, suddenly shouted, "Old man, I think he's from the future! I've seen it in movies before. They always hide their faces to protect the timeline or something!"

"Shut your trap!" the old man barked. "I told you not to believe in that Hollywood nonsense! This is clearly the guy we've been looking for. Never thought the hen would walk straight into the fox's den." He let out a low, manic chuckle. But there was something unsettling in his tone—something serious.

Ariella translated his words, but there was a glitch in the system. The AI suggested a word that roughly translated to 'senile old fool.'

The old man's forehead vein bulged in fury as the others erupted into laughter. I realized too late that I had just insulted him.

I didn't stick around to see how he'd react. Knowing what he was capable of, I immediately took off, shouting a final warning about the four survivors heading their way. As I soared into the sky, the old man fired wildly, his bullets whizzing past me. If that machine gun had been operational, I was certain he wouldn't have hesitated to use it.

"Real smooth," Ariella said dryly as we gained altitude.

"Shut up."

As the cityscape sprawled below me, I realized there was one more person that I had to save. Ariella charted the flight path to the location. She could see the heat signature, but because there were too many zombies, she wasn't able to pull the drone inside to see if the slow-moving body was beyond saving or not.